


Untitled 무제 無題

by JungHyunki23



Category: Big Bang (Band), YG Entertainment | YG Family
Genre: Alternate Universe, Androgyny, Angst and Feels, Canon Non-Binary Character, Controversial, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Gen, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Music, International, Japan, Jrock - Freeform, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Multi, Rating: M, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Tattoos, Unhealthy Relationships, jpop - Freeform, korea - Freeform, kpop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungHyunki23/pseuds/JungHyunki23
Summary: The following is a work of Fiction.The events and characters are fictional and the celebrity names/images merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrity is in real life.©JungHyunki23 all rights are reserved for the author. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of JungHyunki23.Shinjuku's talented photographer Satsuki Nakayama is renowned for her sharp eye, and her equally sharp tongue has fallen into a downward spiral as a result of being unemployed. Unjustly terminated for being a member of the LGBTQ+ community, Satsuki is blackmailed in the Japanese photographic industry. Her life turns upside down when her childhood friend Kang Daesung introduces her to an up and coming tattoo artist Dong Youngbae and Rapper/Producer Kwon Jiyong. Reluctant, Satsuki takes a chance when offered a once in a lifetime opportunity to become a part of Seoul's 1 number creative talent agency established by Choi Seunghyun 'Acquisitions Talent.' Satsuki struggles to navigate through trails of discrimination for her androgynous presentation in addition to challenging the core values of her beliefs of sexual identity when falling into a series of unforeseen romance.
Relationships: KangDaesung/OC, Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon/Park Sandara | Dara, Nagatomo Sayaka/Choi Seunghyun, Nakayama Satsuki/ Kwon Jiyong, Nakayama Satsuki/Dong Youngbae
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

‘What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?’  


I used to receive numerous texts like this from you. Where have they all gone? Once upon a time, I would’ve said with you... without any reservations knowing you were one of the many key contributors to my inspirations. On those days when we were too distant from each other but wanted the comforting moral support & company. On the laborsome workdays that appeared too long and the slow tinkering of time seemed to come to a standstill due to your absence. Those days we’d wished we could prolong the wholesomeness of the time we spent in our youth. We even wrote one another on those irksome dog days of our endless bickering over trivial matters. I miss that….We’d stay in contact with each other...always. But, that was long ago… Eleven years ago, to be exact.   
‘But we don’t even seem to talk anymore...Why?’  
Often, too often, I wonder what my life would be like if you didn’t exist. How easy and efficient it would be to live without the infuriating rage you bring me. The harsh unfiltered words fueled with venom that I’d never thought I speak. The deep despairing malice and resentment that brewed inside me when our friends spoke your name at gatherings. The endless push and pull of testing my willfulness and the true spirit of my moral fiber and its endurance. Your indecisive mind, envious nature, and thankless behavior...I’ve had enough! My life would’ve been so much more tranquil if I’d just married HIM instead… Then maybe I would be able to erase you completely with time. It would just be so much more simple!   
‘Wouldn’t it?’  
Heavy timmers of labored breathing became the only sound to cut through the tension amongst us. The air thickens, no longer infiltrated with insignificant vexations, but polluted by genuine disgust and the resentment we harbored. Here we are again; you infuriated beyond words and reason. The tear-stains you once seemed to empathize with are now insufficient to you as if I was putting on some sort of stage act. You yelling over me instead of listening to my concerns. Me matching the boisterous volume of your tone, no longer caring to hear you out. My eyes mirrored the fury reflecting within yours. We’ve become slaves, captives by our stubborn iron will without ever realizing it, the stupidity of it all. Aware, neither one of us would be willing to break our gaze. Neither of us felt inclined to say the two simple words, even adolescents in grade school learned to say when they’ve wronged someone. ‘I’m sorry,’ Was all we needed to dismantle the vehemence of the argument sufficiently. But we didn’t, nor could we humble ourselves to admit our faults are to blame for the beast we are now.   
‘When did we start looking at each other this way?’  
Trails of broken glass gleamed across the wooden floor from my camera. A precious family heirloom that is now forever broken & shattered. You sure know just how to cut me deep, don’t you? My fist clenched into a ball, still holding a torn piece of your garment. A one-of-a-kind designer shirt - your favorite, in fact. Of course, I know how to lacerate you just the same. Blood dripping down your lip, matching the stain on my hand from the series of punches thrown. Records cracked, awards broken, and holes left in the door from the aftermath of the violent exchange.   
How long have we’ve been excusing ourselves to allow violence to masquerade as love?’

Through gritted teeth, I watched you with anxious unwavering eyes as you began to approach me. With every step you took near me, I retreated further away until my back collided with the cold foundation of the brick wall. Preanticpating the wrath of my fist, which promised you nothing short of pain, you immediately catch it, pressing it hard against the wall. Again, I swung with the other fist, earning a loud echoing cracking noise that made contact with your jaw. You held still for a moment as if you gladly accepted the pain as punishment. Following the clump of blood, you spat it out at the ground as I now hated my own hostile actions. Grabbing hold of my other hand you harshly pushed it behind my back, this time you didn’t retaliate and just held me there.   
Inhaling and exhaling, you seemed to recompose yourself; I saw something different exhibit in your eyes. There it was again that expression. Yes, that one, the one that leaves me breathless every time. Silence engulfed us, but the impression embedded in your eyes simply said, ‘Enough!’ A sudden chill ran through me that made me a bit smaller, a little softer, and even somewhat feel a sense of exposure. I hated it… This talent you’ve perfected over time.   
‘Why is it that the more vulnerable I feel, the more beautiful you find me to be? Stop it!’

The rise and fall of my chest synchronized with yours only made my want to preserve the little pride I had left as I attempted one last time to get away. My efforts were in vain when I felt the firm compression betwixt your chest and the wall. An unexpected breath nearly escaped my lips once I felt your thigh forcibly part my legs, nearly grazing the sensitive area hidden my black pantsuit. An air confusion washed over me from the way you stared with such gentle care, and dare I say an underline of compulsion.  
‘Why did all that animosity go?’

A string of questions aligned when you suddenly dipped your head down and nipped my nose upwards with yours, placing a supple kiss on my lips. For I knew I don’t deserve the softness of your touch. 

‘Why are you like this? Don’t show me your gentle nature when you know damn well I shouldn’t be pardoned.’

Lustful perversion distorted my train of thought. All logic abandoned when I found my legs laced around your waist and the firmness of your hands gripping my ass. There was nothing between us but raw, unbridled emotions, as painful as they are, there was always a sweet heavenly sting of addiction that soon followed. 

‘When did my body fell like it was on fire for I was just drowning in sorrow moments ago?’

An airy moan released with each strong push & pressed as find myself from confines of the hardened wall to the plushy comfort of your bedsheets. The hum of sadistic gratification broke free from my lips when your fingers entangled in my hair, giving it a solid disciplining tug. The groans’ of your approval came from scratches left on your back. Clawing at fabrics of each other’s clothing desperate and needy for our next sinful fix. Shaded hues of pink, purple and blue left behind on the naked skin of your chest and neck rooted from the bites I’d gifted you. Immersing ourselves in the euphoric pools of pain and pleasure, a fluent love language only the two of us spoke. Straddling your inviting lap that held concentrated blood in which pulsated and pumped into a bulge camouflaged by the restrains of your boxers. A loud sound of palm meeting skin reverberated inside the room followed a low gasp from the angry red handprint you left on my perky ass. I continued to litter your mouth, face, and neck with kisses before you belligerently threw me down on your bed once more.

‘How did this become our normal way of apologizing? Is this really love?’

Then again, I’m sure neither of us ever properly understood the true meaning of the fucking word anyhow. Who knows what to call something like this really? Toxic? Yea, I’d say I have to agree... Intoxicating? I’d be even more inclined to agree. At this point, I feel like it is easier for us to just die instead of forgiving each other. A basic human courtesy we’ve both seemed to have forgotten. This just probably another mistake of lust for love. Then again, it could just be pure insanity since we have a record of repeating the same mistake. Perhaps there isn’t a word in the human language that perfectly described the absurdity we’ve found ourselves…

...For now, we’ll define it as untitled... 


	2. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men are ridiculed for doing “Feminine” acts because femininity is a weakness in the eyes of the patriarchy. Women get ridiculed for doing “Masculine” actions because it’s “not their place,” or so they’re taught.  
For 21-year-old Satsuki Nakayama, this statement couldn’t have been closer to the truth. She’d be the very last person you’d ever expect to allow her gender to dictate the way she’d live her life. Whether that involved her going against societal gender norms, conducting business at the workplace, or courting her romantic interest. Rebellious by nature and stubborn to the core, she sported a masquerade of confidence acquired at a young age. It equipped her to face the obstacles of the “normal” world that thrown her way continuously due to her abnormally androgynous lifestyle. However, there were no specific precautions that could’ve possibly prepared her for the series of events that would unfold to challenge the very backbone of her beliefs.

Perhaps if she were genuinely ready, she would’ve heeded her therapist’s advice to enroll in that anger management course the day prior to her termination. Maybe if she’d taken just a little time to comprehend the complexity of her fears entirely, she wouldn't have been able to resist lecherous temptations instead of seeking solace by jumping from bed to bed with a series of seasonal lovers. If she had known what was to come...Perhaps...perhaps she would’ve lingered just a bit longer between the thighs of the woman beneath her, further indulging in their lustful deed. Instead, she allowed the disruptive hammering from the gentleman loitering at her door to distract her.

“Suki! Suki, I know you’re in there!” The young man stood in front of her apartment, relentlessly banging his fist against the hard wooden door. “Stop whoever you're doing, put your pants on, and come out here!”   
An irritated breath released from Daesung's chest. Thoroughly aware that the woman on the other side would be taking her dear, sweet time to greet him. He removed the strands of unruly hazelnut hair from the front of his face; his eyes traveled down the corridor of the complex only to see a mother and child swap perplexed looks his way. In a weak attempt to dismantle the awkwardness, he sent a friendly wave tagged along with a toothy, nervous grin in their direction as they made a hasty retreat. Unable to sit in the hall in silence, he gazed at his watch, reconfirming the time they’d agreed to meet. Mumbling a string of profanities, he shifted anxiously, waiting in front of her door.  
“Yah! Satsuki Nakaya-”  
Daesung prepared himself for the second wave of mild harassment; his sentence cut short when he reached to knock on the door once again. He’d slipped on something sleek, causing him to stumble forward a bit.   
“This girl...”   
He shook his head, bending down to pick up his friend’s mail, which covered in debris- along with more than a few shoe prints. It was apparent that these parcels had been there for an extensive period. A startled gasp fled from him when he picked up the post and noticed all three papers read ‘FINAL NOTICE’ in big, bold, red font.   
The slow creaking of the rusty door met his ears, and a woman with an inky, black mane styled in a boyish haircut stood before him, a bored expression exhibited on her face. Her eyes trailed down to the crouching boy holding the mail and back up to his skittish front. Bewildered at this sight, she leaned her slender body against the door frame. She snorted haughtily, dabbing the beads of sweat from the center of her breast with the towel that draped around her neck, barely long enough to cover her exposed upper half. She shot a poignant glance his way, and he didn’t dare speak. An apprehensive brow lifted as she jammed her hands into the depths of her charcoal gray sweatpants.   
“Hey, Kang Daesung...Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to touch things that don’t belong to you?” Satsuki reached for the distorted documents in his grasp, promptly retrieving them.  
A displeased scowl painted on the young man’s expression. Readjusting his posture, he stood up and cleared his shirt free of wrinkles, more than ready to scold her for the delay.  
“Seriously! If you don’t want people touching your stuff, then put it in your house. You little ingrate...” Daesung muttered the last bit under his breath, twined with annoyance from the situation he found himself in.   
“Whatever.” Utterly dismissing the petty details of the matter, Satsuki's attention was captivated by something- or, instead, someone else. The slender, manicured hands of a promiscuously dressed woman clasped around Satsuki's waist. The woman pressed her bosom against the bareness of Satsuki’s back, followed by a kiss on the serpent tattoo that showcased on her neck.   
“Call me later, okay?”  
Daesung’s face twisted into a quizzical stare attempting to put a name to the front of the slightly familiar voice. The pleasantries of smiles, a few romantic words, and understanding nods exchanged amongst the partners. Trading off a few last-minute kisses, the two women bid each other a final goodbye. Satsuki’s guest waved, then passed by a stupefied Daesung.   
His jaw dropped, observing the arrogance radiating from Satsuki’s satisfied smirk that lingered on her lips. She watched the woman’s waist enticingly sway side to side, paired with the clicking of her heels until she disappeared around the corner of the hallway. Once the woman vanished entirely from the pair’s sight, Satsuki let out a sigh of deviance. 

“No,” Daesung exclaimed, finally finding his voice of disapproval.  
“Hmm, yes,” Satsuki replied mildly.  
“Tell me that wasn’t her.”  
“Of course, it was.”  
“Y-you wouldn’t.”  
“I absolutely did.”  
“Yah, no wonder you got fired!”  
“No, I got fired because my boss is a narrow-minded, homophobic pig.”   
“Well, yes, and no. But I think banging his daughter in the workplace is reasonable terms for termination!”  
A nonchalant shrug of her shoulders came, nearly dismissing the truth of his statement before she turned on the heels of her bare feet, entering her living quarters.   
“Tsk,” Watching the shape of her back, Daesung let out a judgemental huff of his own. 

He invited himself in, a gesture he had become accustomed to over the years. Respectfully, he began taking off his shoes, ready to neatly place them in the entryway, but to his surprise, there was no available space. The moment he entered, he’d nearly tripped over a pile of unwashed laundry and a variety of unhung sweaters and coats. His eyes bloomed in astonishment once he’d gotten a better look at the disheveled studio. Almost entirely cloaked in darkness, the residence practically mimicked the emptiness of an abandoned building. The dishes were stacked high, stains marking the countertops and stove. The mild stench of week-old garbage greeted his nose with an unpleasant odor, causing his hand to cover his nostrils as he passed by. Empty bottles of alcohol littered across the living room to the full-size bed. The only sense of order to the home was hidden in the shadows of her closet that held shelves of photography equipment, painted canvases, and drawing paper. It was so much worse than he’d thought. He’d always known her to be slightly artistically unorganized, but never to this caliber. His eyes followed the half-naked figure to the blue bean bag in the corner in which Satsuki had comfortably seated herself. An unsettled squint followed her when she placed a questionably clean shirt over her torso.

“Wow, Suki...” He broke the quiet air amongst them, hands placed disapprovingly on his hips as he took in the chaotic clutter. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?” His voice was baffled by her peculiar behavior, finding it most disturbing. “I know you’re going through a rough patch right now, but-” He paused to collect his words wisely. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”   
“If the decor isn’t appealing to your standards, you’re more than welcome to see yourself out,” the raven-haired girl replied. Reaching over to a nearby nightstand, careful not to disturb the picture frame that laid face down upon it, she retrieved a pack of cigarettes and her favorite matte black lighter. Satsuki placed the coffin nail between her lips, and a tiny flame welcomed the end of it. Inhaling, then exhaling, she watched as the toxic vapors morphed in the air. The way the smoke danced inspired her to strum the strings of her acoustic guitar mindlessly.  
“Come on, don’t be that way. I come bearing good news! I’ ve-” He paused his announcement. Frustration surfaced once he noticed that the girl was only mildly paying him any attention. Clearing his throat, he ignored her impolite behavior and proceeded to continue his report in a more cheery, song-like tone, hoping it would lift her spirits if only just a bit. Realizing his efforts were dismissed, he felt defeated. Never once did she even bother to look up at him, just simply continued to play a calming medley on her beloved instrument. Officially fed up with being blown off, Daesung reached for her cigarette, immediately ashing it out in a shot glass nearest the picture frame on the nightstand.   
“Hey!”   
“Would you look at me when I’m talking to you, woman?! I have something important to tell you. You can go back to your self-deprecating pity party afterward!” Vacant of all buoyant charm he usually displayed, he took a disposition that was met with pure, serious intent.   
“So annoying...” Her words were met with a chilling glare that only a big brother would give their younger sibling for demonstrating such a lack of respect.  
“I’m trying to tell you something, you bastard! Now, listen to me.”  
Aggravated, she surrendered, letting out a displeased groan and collapsing back in the bean bag, her hands thrown into the air. “Well, go on, just tell me… Tell me this amazing news you have for me.”  
“Thank you,” his smile soon returned to his visage. “I fully intended to.” Sarcasm fluttered in his voice as he straightened out his pants and took a seat on her bed.  
“Drum roll, please!” Immediately he began beating an imaginary drum in his lap. “Your brilliant friend- yes, that is me, Kang Daesung- has found you temporary work!” His hands raised in the air, thoroughly pleased with himself as if he were the most generous humanitarian in the world.   
Satsuki’s eyes narrowed suspectly at this proclamation. Something about the offer felt fundamentally queer to her.   
“Temporary work, huh?”   
“Uh-huh. It’s only a one night gig, but the pay is pretty solid.”  
“Who’s it for?”  
“An up-and-coming painter in the Korean fine arts community, Dong Youngbae.”  
She scoffed at the thought before grabbing hold of her guitar once more, returning to the gentle strumming of the strings.   
“What? He’s a really amazing artist. Photographing him is right up your alley!”  
“Pass.”   
“Wait. Why? This is a good opportunity for your Suki! You could use the exposure, and obviously you could use the money,” Daesung encouraged, right before shooting a finger in the direction of the crumpled up bills stuffed in her sweatpants.   
“Opportunity? Up my alley? Please, don’t make me laugh,” She finally spoke up, putting her light jam session on pause.   
“But-” He began, and she shot him down the moment he spoke.  
“Is he straight?”  
“Yes.”  
“Is he hyper-masculine?”  
“Yes, but he’s good looking.”  
“Is he conservative?”  
“Fairly...”  
“Like I said- pass.”

Settling back down into the security of the bag, she grabbed hold of a half-empty bottle of Jameson, proceeding to drink straight from it. Daesung watched in a bit of disgust and perhaps a minuscule amount of amazement while she chugged the liquor down to a quarter before tossing it aside. A dense, bothersome sigh escaped Daesung’s lips, disappointed in the person his friend had become. She was no longer the 7-year-old, happy-go-lucky girl he had met during childhood. Their long-standing kinship was the only aspect that held empathy for her- but his tolerance for her manners was running dangerously low. Tussling his fingers through his hair, he made one last effort to exercise the last bit of patience he had left. “I thought you’d be happy.”  
“And why would something like this make me happy?” She answered, ignorantly unaware of his grievance stricken expression. “Because some pretty boy needs someone to make him look good on a front cover? So now he is digging at the bottom of society's barrel for my assistance?” She mocked, chuckling to herself at the very thought, with zero consideration for her confidante.  
“What a fuckin-”

A loud smack to the back of the head interrupted her sentence. Silence captured them, and she reached a comforting hand to ease the pain of soreness.   
“No… Because I thought you were suffering in this tiny studio alone because you have been jobless for months. You are one of the most talented LGBT photographers in Tokyo, but...But you’ve been blacklisted, and you fail to realize that your piss-poor attitude got you here, not your presentation! And I finally found someone willing to take a chance on you because I’m the one who put my reputation on the line to get you this job!” She flinched under the scrutinizing truth of his words, hanging her head low, allowing the coverage of her bangs to shelter her disheartened expression.   
“I...I promised your mother on the day that we put her in the ground that I would always look after you like an older brother should…”  
Fuming, he bit down on his bottom tier to stop it from quivering to gather his thoughts. His eyes roamed from the silent woman to the dusty, facedown picture frame. He lifted it to set it properly, taking the time to allow his subconscious the privilege to stroll down memory lane to the day it had been made. Satsuki, her mother, and his family had taken this photo during the lunar new year. His lips weakly extended into a bittersweet smile only to have his eyes betray him, lightly misting over as that smile became a dry, desolate one.  
“Looks like I’ve done a pretty shitty job...”   
The heaviness of his words weighed upon her more than he would ever know. It amazed even herself how far gone she’d allowed the pieces of her happiness and humanity to slip away. She knew what she should’ve said was ‘Thank you for visiting me,’ for no one else had. ‘Thank you for thinking of my well being, for you are favored amongst the remaining handful of friends I have left.’ But she didn’t. Only her heartfelt appreciation should’ve shown for his kindness, but it substituted with ungracious sarcasm.   
A low buzz vibrated in the chest pocket of Daesung’s pin-striped dress shirt. Peeling his phone out, he read over the text and quickly disregarded it, shoving the device back in the compartment. His focus drawn back to her when she finally spoke.  
“I’m sorry to have burdened you...You should go now...”  
A long breath was drawn out as he stood on his feet, no longer in the mood to argue with her. “I’m sorry for my intrusion. I just wanted to help.”   
Sincere to his intent, he reached in his pantsuit pocket to retrieve the invite to the gig and placed it on the nightstand. “We’ll talk later when you're feeling better, okay?”   
He smiled at her even though he met with no reply, just a quiet nod. Giving her shoulder a firm squeeze, he bent down to her level and placed a soft kiss on the back of her injured head. He turned, preparing to take his leave, but stopped in the center of the room. He looked over his shoulder, wearing the brilliant smile he’d always paraded.   
“Hey, Suki… Let’s greet each other with kind words and open hearts next time. I’ll even treat you to dinner if you’re nice to me.”   
Peering at her through the darkness, he could barely make out the solemn figure sunken into the bean bag. Even though she wasn’t looking at him directly, he could feel the tiny smile from underneath the curtain of her long, ebony bangs. That in itself was enough to give him hope that she would be okay.   
“Until then, please be well, Suki...bye-bye,” Daesung waved a last farewell and exited the apartment, leaving behind his melancholy companion.   
She sat there cloaked in the darkness of her flat for what seemed like minutes when in actuality, an hour had already come and gone. Silence engulfed her, holding her hostage to her convictions. It was only when a furious rumble in her stomach protested with the hunger that she came back to her senses. Her mind, weary from replaying the conversation that she’d had with Daesung prior, placed her in a state of fatigue. Pushing the guitar aside, she stood up and made her way over to the kitchen- only to be greeted with an empty refrigerator. A single Sapporo beer was the only item in the house that promised to stall her stomach from the thought of starvation. It seemed like ages since she last had sufficient funds to purchase groceries.  
“Fuck...”   
Regret finally sank in as she wished she’d been nicer to Daesung, knowing she would’ve at least been treated to a free meal. Then again, she wished she’d been kinder to him knowing his objective was purely the betterment of her well being. Closing her eyes, Satsuki rested her head against her forearm, using the fridge for support. Discouraged, her jaw tightened, and her fist clenched to restrain the tears threatening to fall. An eerie aura crept into her heart as if all the happiness in the world had just vanished. Contrary to the warm spring season beyond her walls, everything around her just felt black. The once fluorescent light she possessed, burnt out by the harsh realities of the predicament that she’d created.   
Exhausted and hungry, she decided it was best to sleep to avoid the hunger pains that were ready to surface at a moment’s notice. Flopping herself onto her bed, she stared up at the ceiling, allowing her mind to go blank for just a few minutes to escape the reality. Sleep, yes, just rest was all she needed to break away from this world. So why wouldn’t her mind allow her the kindness of doing so? After 15 minutes of uncomfortable tossing and turning, she’d made it her mission to fall asleep. She’d finally slipped off into a decent slumber until a sudden, unnerving vision came.  
  
“Don’t you dare come near her again, you freak!” The man shouted in a fit of rage as he grabbed the teenager’s wrist, hurling her back to his side. He tightened his grip to restrict her from pursuing the frightened female fleeing towards the front door. Tears escaped her face as her outstretched hand failed to reach the shape of the figure. “You keep that abomination away from my family, you hear me?!”

A frightened gasp erupted from her, causing Satsuki to launch herself upward. Heavy, strained breaths filled her lungs as if she were underwater. The blackness of her studio was the only greeting she received, yet it did nothing to calm her frantic mind. She gathered her arms around her knees and tucked her head in between them, sheltering herself from the anarchy of her subconscious. She placed her hands over her ears, hoping to stifle the rambunctious, turbulent voices. She prayed that they would silence themselves as they always had in the past. Drowning in the overwhelming flood of despair, it couldn’t have been better timing for a small, saving grace to appear in the form of a text message from an unknown number.  
The slight tint of blue popped up on the screen, snagging her attention. The message read:

‘Good evening Miss Nayakama; I’m Dong Youngbae. I was referred over to you by a mutual friend. I wanted to thank you in advance for your assistance. I'm extremely grateful you were available to take part in the project on such short notice. I’m looking forward to working with you tonight. Thanks again!’  
She peered at the text through narrowed eyes before resentfully tossing the phone on the bed. Switching on the bedroom light, she turned her eyes to the invitation that Daesung had left on the nightstand, then shifted them to her mother's face in the photograph.   
“Shh, you always take his side,” Satsuki huffed, shaking her head as if she’d just be ganged up on by two invisible entities. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She extended a hesitant hand toward the envelope and exhaled a loud, yielding sigh. She gave the letter in her grasp a prideful squeeze, and it was then that she’d made up her mind.

“Fuck it.”


	3. False Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is full of mystery. Even when the moon is brightest, secrets hide everywhere. Then the sun rises, and its rays cast shadows that the day creates more illusions than all the veiled truth of the night. - Amelia Atwater- Rhodes-

**T** he cigarette burned brightly, illuminating the characteristics of its user, a young male, breathing out a calming small puff of smoke to steady his fretful nerves, a tradition he often took part in when concluding his busy work schedule. His back pressed against the foundation of the brick wall up the top of the lavish studio loft. Restless, he shifted a commendable gaze towards the twilight of the city’s nightlife. He stood blinking in the beauty from the balcony tower, a customary sight due to the nature of his profession. From studio to studio in the laundry list of various countries, there was one thing he’d noticed in particular, an element that united them. All cities he’d ever had the pleasure of visiting possessed a particular enchantment at their core when blanketed underneath the starry night. Mild sounds of the foot traffic and squeaky tires invited him to indulge in the busy Tokyo ambiance. Digging his hand deep in the confines of his pockets, he retrieved his cellular device to check the time. Immediately, he regretted his early arrival. Boredom struck him, but not for long when he heard the sound of strange voices from down below in the workshop. 

“Satsuki-Kun!” Beyond delighted, a beautiful brunette greeted the slim masculine-like figure. A gracious smile plastered on the woman's lips. She ran towards her, jumped, entangled her limbs securely around Satsuki’s frame, blistering in an abundance of lively excitement. 

“Sayaka,” The other groaned with discontent when she became unbalanced, dropping the luggage safeguarding her fragile work equipment. Fortune favored her when she safely caught the woman just in time, followed by loud thud met the concrete flooring. Satsuki’s brows knitted into a frown, fearing her gadgets may have damaged. 

“Sayaka! You almost made me break my camera.”

“No, I didn't, it's fine! It’s fine,” She squealed utterly unaware of the grimace expression of the other woman. 

“What are you even doing here? I thought Daesung was supposed to meet me.” As blank as a canvas, Sayaka’s face remained oblivious- until something of importance seemed to dawn on her. Putting her overly affectionate nature on a brief pause, she recalled a key point justifying the essential reason for her visit. 

“Oh yeah! Cousin told me to tell you that he sends his apologies.”

“Uh?” 

“Daesung...He got booked for another drummer's showcase this afternoon or some sort of rock n roll bandstand. You know that boy is married to his drum set. But he’ll be arriving soon.” She assured.

Contrary to Satsuki's plaintive stare, Sayaka's eyes formed into tiny crest moons and proceeded with her update.“I don’t know, but I’m here with you now, Suki, so don’t you worry!” Sayaka exclaimed, bouncing happily in Satsuki’s arms. 

Thinking nothing of the pair’s interaction, the male spectator silently observed them on the balcony. To the common eye, it would’ve appeared to have been just an ordinary man and woman reuniting for the first time in a long while. Exactly what the young man presumed them to be: a couple. A girlfriend and her boyfriend bonding, whispering pleasurable loving words with one another when, in fact, his assumption couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

Shaking her head in disbelief, Satsuki began to mutter a few less-than-friendly words regarding the absent Daesung. The swearing only came to a halt once Sayaka’s voice interjected.

“Oh, yea...He also said that he knew you’d take the gig so, please don’t embarrass him with your hot-headed temper, okay.” The woman informed with the same genetically inherited smile her cousin displayed. Insulted, Satsuki grumbled while Sayaka absentmindedly continued to hang from around her neck, tightening her extremities. 

The male viewer squinted at the oddity of the sight. A slow wholesome smile crept on his lips, still a bit wary of what to make of the situation. A combination of admiration and envy persuaded him to stay put in the dim lighting as he wasn’t prepared to make his presence known just yet. Repositioning his body back, he’d decided it would be best to give the hypothesized lovers a bit more time to enjoy their reunion.

“You know, that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, Sayaka.” 

Satsuki questioned then placed the woman carefully to the ground before straightening the wrinkles out of her black dress shirt. Tilting her neck left, then a sharp right Satsuki cracked her spine, relaxing the strain from Sayaka’s weight before she adjusted her red necktie. A pout emerged on Sakaya’s face giving the notion that Satsuki appeared to be entirely indifferent to her presence. Rejection plagued her, feeling even more dejected upon noticing the other woman's expressionless reaction.

“Well, I thought it would be obvious by now, you grumpy butthead.” Sayaka spat callously earning confused narrowed her eyed squint from the other. 

“Um, no...No, it's not obvious. Care to explain?”

“I’m working on this project, you moose! I am a model too.” She huffed out before flipping her luxurious brown locks over her shoulder. Genuinely offended, she had to explain that she’d be collaborating on the project as well only further aggravated her. 

“Hmph, and besides, does one need an excuse to give moral support to someone they care for?” The taller woman turned her back to Satsuki, folding her arms childishly across her chest. The once friendly temperament she exuded was no longer present, only an icy resentful essence. Guilt nagged at Satsuki, as it was never her intent to purposefully be rude nor ungrateful to Sayaka's company and much-needed courage.

“I see why my cousin booked me for this job... To keep an eye on you and your shitty attitude.” 

Satsuki swallowed the hard lump in her throat to soften the harshness of the sting. Closing her eyes, she evened out her breathing. Unsure how to respond, she raked a frustrated hand through her coal-black hair. Unprepared mentally to deal with yet another lecture nor ready to defend the discoloration of her character from another person whose opinion she deeply valued. 

“Look, Sayaka…” 

She began with a lighter evenness in her tone, placing her hands gently on both sides of her delicate shoulders. “I’m sorry….I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s actually a huge relief to see you. But, I don’t need to be babysat…” she explained truthfully.

Removing her hands from the other, Satsuki took a seat on the nearby ebony leather couch. Inhale and exhale, she continuously told herself whenever the overwhelming feeling of imperfect social etiquette affected her demeanor. Again, she released a solid breath before collapsing her face in the palms of her hands as a means to stall the impending sense of defeat. Anxiety submerged her already frazzled nerves. With a few breathing techniques that she’d acquired in her therapy sessions, the clusters of air aided her in the proper direction to reconfigure her mental state. 

Rippling with a sense of helplessness, Sayaka's hand met over her chest. She silently chastised herself for being blindly selfish, and she could only sympathize with Satsuki’s discouragement. It was just as her cousin had informed her- things were far worse than either of them would have imagined. An incomprehensible surge of protectiveness swept through her. It urged her to take responsibility, to uplift Satsuki in any way she possibly could. Occupying the empty seat next to Satsuki, tilted her head as if she was striving to comprehend the complexity of her emotions. 

“ I’m...I’m just having a really shitty week is all,” Satsuki commented, hoping the sincerity of her words would reach the other.

“Oh, really?” The signature smile held while she reached out to collect Satsuki’s face in the palms of her hands. Guiding her gloomy gaze her way, she’d hoped to transfer infectious positivity as a means to eradicate whatever negative energy contaminated the atmosphere amongst them. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, love. Perhaps I can make your week better?” Sayaka offered, leaning in carefully to whisper against Satsuki’s lips, barely enough for the warmth of breath to tickle her skin. 

Slowly she began to sprinkle plush kisses on Satsuki’s lips. Optimistic, Sayaka’s smile stretched once Satsuki gladly returned her kisses with the same lenient vigor, and sparked the inspiration for more feverish ones. Sayaka’s slender hand skimmed Satsuki’s inner thigh while intertwining a graceful hand in the short strands of her raven black hair, gently coaxing the woman closer. An erotic moan slipped through Sayaka’s lips upon gripping a suspiciously familiar bulge that laid beneath Satsuki’s dark black knee torn jeans. Breaking an impassioned string of kisses, a confident smirk emerged on Satsuki’s lips witnessing the brunette’s aroused eyes linger toward the bulge. Sayaka’s tongue traced her bottom lip attempting to contain her lustful excitement. Her fingers outlined what she deduced to be the silicone cock that Satsuki often packed beneath her trousers. 

Mild attentiveness rapidly bloomed into depraved fascination when the male on-looker ashed out the remains of his cigarette beneath the soles of his boot. Peering down at the lovers, the man groaned, annoyed that the bars of the railing formed a blockade that censored his vision. Impulsive, his voyeuristic curiosity got the best of him. Frustrated, he couldn’t clearly make out the anatomy of the two figures. He decided to lean closer to get a better glimpse down below. 

“Hmm, so you are wearing it, aren’t you?”

“That I am,”

“Well aren’t I just a lucky lady,” An alluring grin manifested once Sayaka palmed the bulge of her androgynous playmate.

‘Wearing it?’ The voyeur up top the loft mouthed seemingly bemused to what the woman was referring to. Flustered and confused, the viewer desperately attempted to decipher through underlying meaning context. He failed terribly as his attention was yet again captivated by the intimacy of the duo. 

Emitting an aura of dominance, Satsuki patted her knee, summoning Sayaka to take a seat. Obediently she straddled Satsuki's inviting lap, lacing her hands around her neck. Their lips pressed together tenderly, exchanging satisfying moans. Satsuki's arms snaked around Sayaka’s waist, pulling her even closer while their tongues wedged in between the series of kisses. Her hand plunged deep into Sayaka’s tousled chestnut dark mane, clutching down a handful. Slowly, sliding her hands from Satsuki’s shoulders, down the black button-up shirt Sayaka began to undo them one by one revealing her bare breast. Smaller than average women yet supple it did little to deter Sayaka from caressing them in her modest hands.

The eyes of the faceless male viewer bloomed with astonishment of this new revelation. His mouth hung agape while he hastily fitted the puzzle pieces of the spectacle before him, but it only left him with more questions. ‘I shouldn’t be watching this,’ his self-consciousness warned gravely. His eyes remained fixated on the two women. He swallowed deeply, tracing his tongue over his tiers when he suddenly felt them go dry. He was nearly breathless as he continued to observe the breast of the androgynous woman in particular. Slowly withdrawing his phone from his pocket, he selected his camera and began to record footage.

The unscrupulous pair ground their bodies together while their mouths engaged in a raw and intense kiss. Tugging Sayaka’s white crop top Satsuki silently demanded it off, deeming it unnecessary along with her black shorts revealing her lace panties and a matching red bra. Appeased with the lewd sight of the beauty before her, Satsuki wasted no time diving her mouth toward Sayaka’s tempting bust. She kissed each breast with the same amount of enthusiasm, occasionally gently tonguing her cleavage along with a few generous nips earning a throaty moan from Sayaka. With one hand, Satsuki slowly unzipped her jeans, pulling them down just enough to reveal the packer resting beneath her boxer-briefs. 

“C’ mere,” 

She motioned for the brunette to settle her dripping cunt just above the packer. A pleased hum flew from Satsuki's mouth, enjoying the warmth of her companion's wetness leaking through her masculine undergarments. With a firm slap to her hindquarters, it further encouraged Sayaka to roll her hips against the fabrics that held the silicone cock. An inferno of arousal rushed through Satsuki. Enticed by the beautiful curves of Sayaka’s breasts, it mesmerized her, favoring the way they bounced like a slutty ragdoll. Satsuki was reminded of her own femininity when a pleasurable moist pool formed between her legs.

“Damn, well, aren’t you looking exceptionally fuckable this evening?”

“Hmm, see, I knew you’d missed me.”

Absence of a reply Satsuki merely smiled then laid Sayaka on the sofa. Without hesitation, she pushed the soaked piece of fabric aside to get a better look at her swollen lips while licking her own. 

“You look delicious,” She murmured, looking down at the woman beneath her. Leaning forward, Satsuki licked the thick strip of Sayaka's glistening outer lips with the flat of her tongue. Goosebumps emerged on Sayaka’s skin from the warmth of the meaty wet muscle plummeting into her folds. Her grip tightened then released a savoring euphoric sensation. A symphony of moans filtered through the studio when she felt Satsuki’s mouth suckle her clit. Her fingernails dug in the sturdy hide of the leather loveseat as she held onto the last bit of sanity she could muster. 

A deep breath fled from their unknown cameraman. Finding it more difficult to conceal his curious arousal from the explicit provoking actions of the woman, it only encouraged him to lean forward. He’d never been witness to two people of the same sex being intimate in this way.

‘Don’t watch,’ Again, his brain cautioned, but his body refused to withdraw. Several minutes had gone by when he noticed the blood pulsating in his member commanded him to finish what he’d started. He’d watched the androgynous woman’s tongue suckle and kittenishly lap up the juices of the feminine woman who was edging near her climax. How sweet it must’ve tasted on her palette, he thought. Fixated, he studied her mouth how she sucked and nuzzled her face against the woman’s labia. Struggling to suppress his own desire, he gawked as she spread the lips with her two fingers while delivering tantalizing flicks with the tip of her tongue. A low aroused hum came from him, listening to the vexing whimpers of the two women. The man groaned aloud. Perhaps a bit louder than he anticipated, accidentally snagging the attention of the androgynous woman in his general proximity. 

‘Damn,’ he mentally scolded himself snapping his body to the safety of the shadows concluding his unauthorized film session.

Her eyes lingered in the direction where she had felt the strange energy. Unable to confirm nor deny the accuracy of her suspicions, Satsuki couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. She wasn't necessarily against exhibitionism; however, she was an advocate of consent. Through half-dazed lids, Sayaka stared up at Satsuki's face and followed her gaze, automatically putting two and two together. 

The man cloaked in the darkness quickly tried to steady the unbridled thumping of his heart. His mind raced, hoping the ladies hadn’t seen him. He felt panicked. What would they think of him? He wondered. Then again, his mind combated argumentatively another fair point. If they wanted to keep their special moment private, they shouldn't have been in a public environment. He logically reasoned with himself to justify his behavior. 

Turning back to one another, they erupted in amused laughter. The girl's orbs abruptly drew to the nearby entrance of the studio, hearing the slow creaking of the sliding door. Without hesitation, they gathered their belongings and rushed to the nearest dressing room. Engaged in their lighthearted chat, male voices entered the building oblivious to what had just taken place. 

“Woah Youngbae, you’ve really outdone yourself with this space,” The girls’ ears perked upon instantly recognizing the familiarity of Daesung’s voice. They promptly adjusted their garments, giving the illusion of presentability to the new arrivals. Sayaka was the first to greet them, stumbling out of the dressing room. 

“Hey! Cousin, there you are. We’ve been waiting for you two.” She smiled pleasantly erasing any, or rather, most of the traces of her promiscuous conduct she’d participated in moments ago. The two men were clearly caught off guard by her sudden appearance resulting in a perplexed exchange before addressing her. 

“Oh Sayaka, you’re here...Wait, ‘we’?” 

Daesung paused, giving the room a quick scan for the other person in question. His accusatory squint transferred towards the loveseat, landing his eyes on something wedged betwixt the cushions. 

“Ah, so she did decide to grace us with her presence?” He replied, keeping the startling discovery to himself. 

“What? Thought I was going to leave you hanging, did ya? Shows how much faith you really have in me, D.” Satsuki folded her arms across her chest as she appeared immaculately put together. 

“Not true, if I had no faith in you, I never would’ve recommended you.”

His smile served well to camouflage his disapproving demeanor in regards to their recklessness. From the outside looking in, it was a friendly welcome when he placed her in a headlock, but in reality, it was an interrogation. With one harsh jerk, he brought her ear close and whispered:

“You mind explaining what in the homosexual hell happened before I got here?” 

His question was barely audible but just loud enough for her to hear. Revealing in the palm of his hand, Sayaka’s red bra that he quickly managed to fish out of the couch cushions. 

“Ouch,” She attempted to free herself but to no avail. Daesung's iron grip held firm pushing his hardened bicep into her neck. “Just reconnecting like old times. Trust me, you don’t want the details.” Satsuki winked, knowing it would be all she needed to convince him to release her.

“Ew.” 

Although he was entertained by the comedic sight, Youngbae felt it appropriate to clear his throat to break up the bickering amongst childhood friends. Dispersing from one another, they straightened their posture, reminded that there was business to be conducted. Daesung grabbed hold of Satsuki’s wrist and nearly dragged her across the room to the unknown stranger. 

“My apologies, sir. You already know my baby cousin, Sayaka.” Daesung gestured en route of the brown-haired beauty who was busy correcting the imperfections of her appearance in the mirror before sending a nonchalant wave their way. 

“Anyhow this brat right here, this is my best friend. Youngbae, meet Nakayama Satsuki. Satsuki, this is Dong Youngbae.” 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Satsuki. I love your work.”

“P-Pleasure is mine. What- You’ve seen my work?” A sudden wave of nervousness rampaged within her.

“Of course, the photos you’ve done with Hiroyasi Tsuri, the Australian street artist, June Lee, the sculpture in Seoul, and James Jean, a commercial artist from Taiwan. Plus, there’s the legendary traditional Japanese tattoo artist Yoshihito Nakano. He’s one of my absolute favorites, and I can’t forget the New York artist Lady Aiko Nakagawa.” 

Youngbae could hardly contain himself, thrilled by the thought of other Asian artists he’d held in high esteem. Completely taken aback by his well-rounded knowledge of the past artists she’d collaborated with, it brought a sense of warming gratitude for her own art form. Blinking at the loss of words, Satsuki's mind formed one conclusion. Daesung was right...Dong Youngbae was extremely attractive. Not for just his handsome, distinguished facial features, nor his athletic build but his well-educated appreciation for the art forms she’d admired. 

“Wow, I’m really flattered.” Satsuki rubbed the nape of her neck to ease the discomforting unfamiliarity of receiving such adulations. Looking over at Daesung’s silent ‘I told you so’ expression back to the star-struck male, she finally found her voice once again. 

“Most people just get to know the artist and not really the photographer behind the scenes these days. I’m truly humbled. Lady Aiko is one of my favorites to work with.”

“She is truly amazing. I love how she embraces all various unique art forms she’s inspired by. The well-polished beauty of her stencils and spray paint art, just stunning. You took some really amazing photos of her one-piece, The Brooklyn Rabbit.” 

“Thank you very much. I loved working with her on that project. Do you know how much skill it takes to successfully coordinate a mixture of media arts?” Satsuki questioned no one in particular, meeting him at the same level of enthusiasm while bystanders of the room were lost to the topic.

“Right? That collage! Stencils, spray paint, and brushwork? The woman is literally a stroke of genius.” 

“Exactly! Captivating an engaging story that deals with the subjects of sexuality, femininity, and celebrating the beauty of life in a single piece.”

“Positively breathtaking.” Youngbae agreed, nearly completing her sentence. Their eyes mirrored the same exuberant joy. Silence held them, reflecting on the exhilarating feeling that united them. Hesitant Satsuki parted her lips to speak again when she noticed Youngbae’s attentiveness was spotlighted elsewhere. 

“Looks like you finally found someone that’s an even bigger art fanatic than you, Youngbae.” The man standing at the top of the stairs was dressed in a black and blue designer bomber jumper with torn light blue denim jeans, a variety of expensive rings, and tan boots.

“Oh, Ji Yong, you’re here already?” Youngbae's smile grew at the sight of a slender blue-haired man descending down the stairs from the terrace loft. “I thought you weren’t arriving until later on tonight.” 

“I wasn’t. Luckily, my schedule got rearranged. So supposed I came, just at the right time.” He informed him before shifting a subverted stare over to Satsuki. 

Satsuki cut her eyes in the vicinity of the newcomer, finding his expression unappealing. Harboring discontentment for the undertone of his implication automatically rubbed her the wrong way. The nerve of this unwelcomed voyeur enraged her. Infuriated, she was prepared to streamline a list of profound insults; however, lucky for Satsuki, a level-headed Sayaka was present to cool off her blazing temper.

“Oh, there you are,” Sayaka said flatly with calculated eyes on Jiyong paired with her usual smile. Resting her arm on Satsuki’s shoulder, she brought her thumb to her lips, releasing a seemingly amused chuckle. 

“We were wondering when you would stop hiding.”

The once assertive smirk publicized on Jiyong’s face slowly dissolved into a vacant stare.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“What show?” Youngbae asked, completely bewildered by the insinuation.

“Oh, well, no matter. Perversion is just another form of art I’ve come to learn. Instead of using paint, people of your nature use others for their medium of choice.” 

Jiyong’s jaw clenched, creating a veil of indifference to mask his discomfort. 

“Afterall, the best kind of voyeurism is the joy of hearing your neighbors. I’m sure you’d agree too, Mr. Jiyong.” Sayaka smiled through her teeth, sending a crisp stare his way, almost daring him to defend his questionable ethics. Once she was satisfied, no such justification came from him. She turned notice to the befuddled man of the hour. 

“Anyways, Youngbae, shall we get started?” She laced her arm with his, leading him over to the semi-assembled backdrop. “Those tattoos aren’t going to model themselves, you know.”

“Tattoos?” Satsuki questioned with confusion entwined in her voice, causing the models to halt in their tracks. 

“Yes, I am a tattoo artist, after all…” 

Youngbae turned over his shoulder to answer. Instantly gathering information from the uncertainty embedded on her face to Daesung’s guilty one, he one felt inclined to ask, “Is there a problem?”

“No...There is no problem. I was just misinformed of the concept of this photoshoot by our mutual contact.” She announced, stressing the last bit of her sentence through the grit of her teeth, looking over at an uneasy Daesung mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’ 

“My apologies, I usually do a pre-consultation regarding the particular needs of my clients. For that, I apologize I’m ill-prepared. I’ll just have to improvise the lighting a little if that’s alright with you?”

An obvious nod of agreement came from Youngbae, accompanied with a kind smile. “The fault is mine. I should've reached out earlier, but this shouldn’t be a problem. I’m used to working on the spot. I have faith that you can still create exceptional content.” Sending her a personable grin of reassurance, Youngbae waved an inviting hand for her to join them. Again fluttering steam of butterflies raced through her from his compelling smile. That smile alone supplied her with just the right amount of credence to get the job done. Bowing her head respectfully, she then kneeled, preparing to gather the last of her equipment when a sudden hand met hers. Swiftly Satsuki retreated her hand upon colliding it with Jiyong’s.

“Sorry, these must be heavy. Let me help you with that.”

“No, thanks...I got it,” She replied post-haste, retrieving it from his hold.

“I was just trying to-”

“I said I got it.”

Gifting him with an unimpressed, estranged scowl, she continued to press by him, joining the others. He watched the shape of her back turn toward him. An amused smile danced on his lips, acknowledging her wariness of him was well warranted under these circumstances.

The conference with Youngbae was brief. He, without a doubt, was one of the most well-prepared clients she’d ever worked with. He knew exactly what he wanted. Even with the aspects, he wasn't sure how to accomplish, he was able to effectively communicate the desired result. With the information provided by her client, Satsuki was more than ready to put her artistic hand to work. Her job was simple, or at least Youngbae made her feel like it was. 

“Storytelling is the most powerful way to give birth to ideas in the world. I would love it if your photos created that story for my art.” He proposed. 

The task laid out for her was a momentous one. Satsuki swallowed hard, ignoring the overwhelming lump of anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach. True, she’d photographed hundreds of models and events in the past, but rarely did they express their earnest passion for their artistry the way Youngbae had. She found his ambition admirable, to say the least. Taking her place behind the camera, she ran with the information she’d received. Putting the two men on the sidelines to work, she motioned for Daesung and Ji yong to assist with lighting. Taking one last look around the studio stage to confirm all lights were lit to the proper exposure, she awaited for Youngbae to take center stage. 

There was unexpected comfort seeing he was just as nervous as she was through the camera lens. Witnessing him exhaling a calming breath, Satsuki shamelessly took a moment to gawk at the beauty of his muscular figure. Her body tensed while watching his muscles ripple beautifully once he removed his shirt to reveal his inked skin and lightly sun-kissed complexion. They contrasted beautifully against the muted gray backdrop allowing the artwork to speak in louder volumes. 

“Ready?” She asked, lifting her head above the camera for a moment to check in on the artist. 

“Yea, I’m ready.” 

He shook loose his nerves, taking up a much more confident impression on camera. Satsuki dipped her head to the camera, her skillful eyes to roam through the lens finder, making sure to capture the very essence of each piece’s artistic individuality. The sizeable religious work of the art of Jesus’s sacrifice and resurrection delivered a strong narrative on its own. The bold devout inked font that read ‘passion’ upon his bare chest held such striking detail that showcased to what Satsuki presumed withhold a double meaning. Each piece foretold their own story. However, there was one that stood out the most. Residing on his right rib cage was a considerably sized crucifix holding an exquisite amount of detail. Being an owner of a few tattoos of her own, she was well aware of the numerous hours each piece must’ve taken. Not to mention the unfathomable level of pain tolerance he must possess to complete such a large, elaborate illustration. 

Operating the majority of the photoshoot seamlessly, Satsuki felt a sense of success materializing with each triumphant portrait she managed to capture. She’d missed this feeling. The motivation to create, the desire to showcase picturesqueness skill her genius and the desirable sensation of offering value to the world. 

From one scene to another, Satsuki directed Youngbae over to the white sofa where the eager Sayaka awaited. Her black shorts were unzipped, lazing below her hip bone. As always, her radiant smile beamed on her lips, a clear indicator she was ready to show off traits of her own talent. Unapologetic, Sayaka was pleased to exhibit her gorgeous provocative artistic pieces. A beautiful purple and a sea-blue watercolor bouquet of water lilies that intertwined with an infinity symbol enticingly engraved along her right hip to mid-thigh. Her most proud work of art that Youngbae had created requested explicitly by her. To him, it was obviously most embarrassing considering Daesung was her older cousin witnessing the suggestive portraits being taken. Dismissive of Youngbae’s more reserved demeanor, Sayaka bounced impatiently as she sat on top of the sofa, motioning him with a sultry, beckoning finger. 

“My turn.”

“Why are you always like this?”

“I don't know. Now, get between my legs,” 

A low chuckle came from Satsuki, shaking her head, pretending to not noticed the crimson hue slowly appearing on the man’s face. Although he’d been intimately close to Sayaka when working on her tattoos, it was evident he was a modest man. 

“You’re a perv, you know that, right?” Youngbae mentioned while settling himself in front of her widespread legs, revealing another tattoo of a red and black garter belt contorted around her thigh. A small smile crept on Satsuki’s lips finding the artist's bashful nature rather charming.

“And you’re a handsome prude.” Sayaka declared with a smile.

“Yea, yea.”

“So, I guess we all have our flaws, don’t we?” 

“Don’t worry, Youngbae, she’s harmless,” Satsuki reassured while adjusting the setting of her camera.

“If you say so,” Jiyong voiced underneath his breath, catching a frigid glare from Satsuki. If not for his obnoxious blue hair, she would have completely forgotten the man was even present. Cutting her eyes away, thinking it would be best if she’d ignore him for the time being. She adjusted her ISO settings and was ready to begin to photograph the pair. After several snaps, flashes and clicks, she was finally content with the narration of depictions she was able to produce.

“Alright, two down and just one more to go,” Youngbae declared, grabbing hold of his clothing.“Jiyong, you’re up next,” Satsuki's gaze switched from Youngbae towards the other man. 

“Where do you want me?” Jiyong asked, rolling his sleeves up to reveal a pair of tattoos on his upper forearms. Contemplating the meaning of the foreign language as Satsuki read ‘Vita Dolce’ on his right and ‘Moderato’ on his left. 

“Let’s film you with the brick background near the leather sofa.”

“Yes, sir... I mean, ma’am.” Satsuki served him a hardened look, clearly less than amused. 

“Just take center stage of the loveseat…” 

Counting backward from five, Satsuki recomposed herself, attempting to focus on the task at hand but made no effort to readjust her unpleasant expression. She was more than aware, she always wore her emotions on her face perhaps the central reason she’d given up hiding them years ago. 

“Alright, I’m going to start with some long shots, then we’ll be refocusing the camera on close-ups of tattoos. So just give me a few natural poses.” 

Cautious of her already unapproachable attitude Jiyong decided it was best to simply nod his head in agreement. Ducking her head low to place her eye within the lens finder once more, she centered the focus on him. Clicks and shutters occupied the room with occasional instructions from Satsuki, directing Daesung and Youngbae to adjust the lighting. Flipping the camera this way and that Satsuki fell into a systematic, groove capturing the best angles of her subject. Funnily enough, he turned out to be one of the most photogenic models she’d ever shot. It was as if he had a natural relationship between him in the focal lens. It made Satsuki’s job easy as she was simply documenting the story of their relationship. Satsuki didn’t know much about the man. What she did learn about him through the looking glass intrigued her as much as she hated to admit. In his solo shots, Jiyong was able to create profound chemistry, connecting to the audience with just a mere look or a variety of subtle gestures. He appeared to be a man that thrived from the inspirations of life, a concept that was not lost upon Satsuki. She came to this conclusion seeing how effortlessly he was able to portray such an artistic disposition within the photographs. 

Removing her eyes from the lens for a moment, she took the opportunity to review her work. Studying his expressions, she was astounded to find attractiveness in his unique physical attributes. It was almost as if she was witnessing two different people. The man off lens appeared arrogant, narcissistic to a degree, and armored with a surplus of confidence. However, that same confidence appeared arguably falsified when stilled in the frame. The man within the lens seemed introverted, mysteriously alluring, and perhaps even a bit lonesome. Lifting her gaze back to the peculiar male, Satsuki was taken by surprise when Jiyong popped up half-naked. 

“What the hell are you-?” She paused in the middle of her sentence, noticing several more tattoos presented themselves upon his slender torso. Baffled by her sudden outburst, Jiyong’s face gave an awkward smile.

“I thought you would want to shoot these pieces as well.” He reasonably stated.

“O-Oh right… Yea, that’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You probably aren’t used to seeing half-naked guys these days.”

“Isn’t that awfully presumptuous of you?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“Yes, it is… And I would appreciate it if you would please keep your own ignorant projections to yourself if you don’t mind.” The room stilled, and the air grew thicker. Unsettled glances were traded amongst the others watching the confrontation.

“That’s enough, Jiyong,” Youngbae interjected, try to bend the unpleasant conversation. Jiyong simply raised his hands in the air, surrendering, turning around to plop on the sofa. “We’re almost done guys, so let's just stay focused and get it done.” Youngbae expressed in a diplomatically hoping to redirect the two’s concentration back on the project. 

“Fine by me.”

“Fine…” Satsuki replied, matching his low tone. 

"That's a wrap," Satsuki announced pleased to conclude the workday. Satisfied with the overall outcome of she took the time to review the last sequence of photos. Grateful, she was able to navigate through the semi-improvised photoshoot while maintaining a neutrally leveled head throughout the session. A round of appreciative applause came from the crew of five celebrating their collaborative success. They swapped cheerful chants of congratulations amongst each other for a job well accomplished. 

"We did it."

"That we did." Youngbae gave Satsuki a firm handshake then pulled her into a hug. Pulling away once he felt a disruptive buzz vibrated through his pocket, he withdrew his phone. 

"Oh yo, Jiyong, we gotta get going. They're already at the lounge."

"They told me they weren't going to be there until eleven."

"That's what I thought too." Looking up from his phone Youngbae looked over at his crew members when an idea sparked. "Hey, I wanna thank you all for coming out to help me on such short notice. To show you a token of my gratitude Jiyong and I would like to invite you to join us tonight for drinks at the Jaded Owl with a few of our colleagues."

"Ain’t that the super bougie nightclub in Shinjuku?" Daesung asked, assisting Satsuki in returning her equipment to their proper cases. "Hell yeah, I'm down."

"Sounds good to me, I love a good free drank!" Sayaka agreed. "Satsuki, what do you say? Let's go fun have together!"

"Thanks for the offer but I'm afraid I'mma have to decline."

"What why?" She gently nudged Satsuki with a tap of her foot.

"I'm just not up for being around a bunch of people tonight."

"Oh my god, you damn hermit," Daesung whined throwing his arm around her, pulling her close. "Don't be that way. You'll be with us, so you won’t have to socialize too much, and when you get tired of us, you have these two handsome gents to talk to." Daesung smiled innocently before gesturing in Youngbae and Jiyong's vicinity. 

"Hmm..."

"Please...Please...Please...We miss hanging out with you. Plus," He brought her ear close and whispered, "there could be sponsorships and other networking opportunities for you." He urged.

"Thanks," Satsuki removed his arm from around her, returning to her luggage. "But, I don't think it’s-"

"I'd be honored if you came Satsuki. I know it might not be your scene, but I would love it if you came." She sighed audible falling prey yet again to Youngbae's charisma. "And, you wouldn’t deny a fan's request, would ya?"

"Shit...Fine, fine…" 

"Perfect, shall we?" His grin stretched delighted; the final decision was unanimous. Youngbae kneeled to collect a few of her luggage cases, ushering everyone out of the building.

Satsuki could hear the boisterous noise flooding through the speakers upon their arrival at the Jaded Owl. Bypassing the long line for party-goers, the group followed Youngbae and Jiyong as they lead them straight to the entrance. Their appearance was anticipated and the bouncer parted the rope for them, granting them entry. Satsuki was unaccustomed to such exclusive privilege, causing her to hesitate at the doorway. She stuck close, following behind the group as they turned the corner to be greeted by an eccentric party scene. Bottles of liquor flowed into the empty cups of thirsty patrons. Music blared through the speakers conducted by its DJ, encouraging the gogo dancers to seductively move and shake their bodies, hoping to acquire their nightly compensation. Drunken silhouettes danced, the exchange of desirable suggestive conversations fluttered through the air, hoping to make memorable fantasies come true. It had been a long while since Satsuki had last visited such a populated nightlife establishment. It overwhelmed her. Instinctively en queue, Sayaka found Satsuki’s hand and held it firm, providing an encouraging squeeze. After ascending a set of stairs, they were led to a private loft where a group of colleagues anxiously awaited the group's arrival. 

“Youngbae! Jiyong! There you are. What the hell took y’all so long?” A mild aged gentleman greeted the boys with a hearty handshake accompanied with 90 degrees bows. 

“My bad Sean, I’m just getting off of work a bit late.”

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yes, Youngbae just concluded his first photoshoot for his gallery opening in Seoul next month.”

“Oh, wow, holy shit, that was fast.” The man nodded with understanding as he grabbed a cigar from his TaylorMade suit pocket. A beautiful young woman joined his side and lit the cigar for him, then laced her arms around his waist. “I’m proud of you, boys, but don’t overdo it. Come sit down and have a drink.” He motioned to a few empty spaces then tilted his head when he noticed the others. 

“Ya, Youngbae, who are you, friends?”

“Oh, right. Guys, this is Noh Seung hwan.” Youngbae smiled shyly, nearly forgetting the trio behind him.

"Please, just call me Sean."

He stood blinking in the beauty from the balcony tower, a common sight due to the nature of his profession. "This is my team that helped me out with shooting. This is Kang Daesung, he's a drummer. He's been working with Jiyong in the studio for a few upcoming projects. This is his cousin, Nagatomo Sayaka and-"

"No, shit! The model Nagatomo Sayaka?" Another slightly younger man interrupted, making a beeline toward the model. 

"That's me." Sayaka waved politely while still holding onto Satsuki's hand. "And who might you be?" 

"Wow, I'm such a huge fan of yours. I'm Kim Jin-woo, but call me Jinu. You're even more beautiful in person."

"Thank you very much. Also nice to be complemented by a fan."

The young man's smile beamed from ear to ear. A crestfallen gaze appeared on his face when he suddenly noticed Sayaka's hand intertwined with Satsuki's. 

"Oh, is this your boyfriend, Sayaka?"

"Eh?" Confusion took her briefly as she'd nearly forgotten that she was still holding onto the other female's hand. Upon seeing the discomfort on Satsuki's face, she turned her gaze back to the two men and shook her head to correct them. "No, no, I don't have a boyfriend, this is my friend."

"Oh sorry man, my bad." The younger man apologized, still clearly unaware of Satsuki's blended feminine attributes. "You almost broke my heart there for a second."

"This is Nayakama Satsuki." Youngbae placed a proud hand on her shoulder. "She is my new photographer."

The two men's expressions twisted into quizzical stares bouncing from Satsuki back to Sayaka, then Satsuki again. Pre-anticipating the string of awkward questions and immediate misunderstanding that was sure to follow, Sayaka quickly corrected them once more.

"Again, not my girlfriend, either."

"Oh." The men shook their heads in understandingly. 

"Oh, thank god...I was worried for a second." The star-struck man pretended to whip a transparent bead of sweat from his brow. "You're way too pretty to be one of those people…"

Satsuki sucked in a deep breath, trying her best to bite her tongue, excusing the ignorance of his remark. Again, Sayaka clutched Satsuki's hand firmly as if silently communicating her to keep her composure. 

"Oh, I'm sorry not saying you're not good looking as well, miss." The young man finally addressed Satsuki directly. "You're a very handsome ladyboy." 

Satsuki said nothing, narrowing her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. Holding in an agonizing breath, Daesung closed his eyes, wishing desperately he could turn invisible to rescue his friend. Uncertainty pleaded with him, causing him to shift anxiously, feeling helpless knowing Satsuki was most likely in no mood to be disrespected due to their ignorance. 

"I agree…" Youngbae interjected at once, notating the irritation settling on Satsuki's face. Casually hanging his arm around Satsuki, he smiled favorably towards her. "She is a very handsome woman. It suits her." Sending a supportive wink in her direction, he then looked at his company and gestured toward the open seats. "Now, shall we drink?"

One by one, they fill the round table; Daesung, Jiyong, Youngbae, Satsuki, followed by Jinu, who wedged himself in between her and Sayaka. Wasting no time at all, Satsuki drank the nearest available bottle of vodka. An hour or two flew by as the guests chatted amongst themselves about various topics: work, local gossip, and of course, upcoming projects. Keeping to herself, Satsuki remained silent with only half-filled bottles of alcohol as her desired companions. The conversation continued carefree and moderately wholesome for the majority of the time- until more romantic topics surfaced. 

"Youngbae, when are you going to find a girl to settle up with, man? You need to get out there and go on more dates," Sean argued. He was far more intoxicated than when they'd begun. Sending a toothy smile his way questioned the artist reclining back outstretching his arms around two women. 

"Please, that boy is in love with his artwork only." Jiyong teased, sipping the remainder of his drink before another woman generously refilled it for him. 

"Hey...Come on now, that's not true," Youngbae smiled, finishing the glass in his hand as well. "Ever think I'm taking the time to find the right girl instead of just jumping into a temporary relationship? It would be a shame to waste time with the wrong person and end up heartbroken. That shit might filter into my artwork like some people." He chuckled mildly, sending a playful glance over Ji yong's way.

"Hey, hey, fuck you," Jiyong laughed guiltily, hating to acknowledge the truth of his friend's statement. The room erupted into laughter, finding his tragic situation comical.

"Damn Jiyong, it's like that?" Sayaka questioned and enjoying her third or fourth bottle of sake.

"Oh, believe me, it's like that," Youngbae answered. His smile slowly dissipated once he noticed Satsuki's silent blank expression.

"Whatever, man," Jiyong muttered, driving his nose back into his beverage.

"What about you, Sayaka? Is your love life so grand?" Jinu asked curiously. 

"Of course, it's grand. Why wouldn't it be when I have so much love to give?" She giggled sarcastically then took another shot of sake.

"Ah, I'm sure you have hordes of men banging down your door."

"Not exactly," Jiyong mumbled bitterly under his breath. 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Satsuki tilted her head, leering at him, drawing the attention of the room to them once she finally spoke.

"Nothing, man, forget it." 

"No, you seem to have something to say, so let's hear it."

"I said forget it, it's nothing. Go about your own love life," He retorted.

"Hmm, now that you mention it, I am very curious about your lifestyle Satsuki," Jinu interjected.

"My lifestyle?" She raised a curious brow, cautious of where the conversation was heading.

"Yes. You're a lesbo, right?"

"No…" Satsuki took a long sip of her drink before returning her attention to the curious man. "No, I'm not lesbian…" Her proclamation came as a surprise to everyone in the room, except for her two childhood friends. 

"Tsk." Satsuki squinted her eyes at Jiyong, well aware of his judgemental pre notations.

"Is that funny to you?" She questioned, earning nothing but a nonchalant shrug from Jiyong.

"Wait...If you're not gay, then why do you dress and look the way you do? Don't you think you'll have a better chance to attract more men if you dress...Well, a bit differently?" Jinu asked, selecting his words carefully.

"Who said I was trying to attract just men?"

The room went quiet once more with only the distant vibrations of the music from down below. Collectively they were unsure what to make of Satsuki's newly presented information. Witnessing the variety of controversial expressions on the occupants' faces resulted in a discomforting feeling. Never wanting to be the main subject of interest, Satsuki hastily stood up and excused herself toward the smoker's patio. 

Finally, alone, she exhaled a long, tiresome breath. Resting her forearms on the railing of the terrace, Satsuki closed her eyes, wishing she'd be somewhere else. Hell, anywhere else at that moment. If she could entirely disappear that would be an even more preferable option. Momentarily she closed her eyes, grasping at straws to collect herself; she sucked in a large breath. Counting backward from five, Satsuki slowly released it. Annoyed her tactics were no longer working in her favor, she decided to turn to the next best option. Reaching into her back pocket, she retrieved a cigarette. Placing the cig between her lips, another irritating problem presented itself. "Fuck...Where the hell is my lighter?" 

"I got you." A familiar but not favored voice emerged. Jiyong withdrew his lighter from his inner coat pocket, setting the toxin ablaze. 

"T-Thank you…" 

"It's cool," he replied, recovering his own cigarette and lighting it to expel smoke into the air. Relaxed by the comfort of the nicotine, Satsuki was finally able to release some tension. She shifted her orbs over to the silent man observing the twilight of the cityscape. His profile temporarily captivated her- maybe just a bit longer than she cared to admit as she watched the cloud of smoke transform in the sky. Jiyong leaned his back and elbows onto the rails, feeling his body unwind. Focusing his eyes on the starry sky once more, he seemed distracted but by what, Satsuki was uncertain. She froze when his gaze fell upon her.

"What? Do you like what you see? Ah, that's right, you like boys too." A perplexed expression was sent his way as she exhaled a breath of smoke. 

"That's right. I'm attracted to men too, but don't flatter yourself."

"Good, you're too cute just to be a lesbian…" Satsuki's face scrunched into an angry scowl. Taking in a deeper inhale smoke remains to hold onto the last bit of tolerance, she could possibly muster for the evening. 

"Oh, speaking of cute... your friend, Sayaka. She's not your girl, right?" He asked.

"No... She's not, we're just friends."

"Oh, good." Jiyong ashed out his cigarette into the designated ashtray. "She's pretty sexy, she seems like a fun time. Would you mind putting in a good word for me tonight?"

"I don't think you're her type."

"No? I could be. I'm sure she'd enjoy a real man."

Gobsmacked by the requests, it took every single ounce of her strength to not entangle her hands around his throat.

"A good word, huh?" Satsuki exhaled another breath of smoke, pleased the nicotine was able to suppress her violent urge. 

"That's right," Jiyong smirked, seemingly amused by the evident displeasure engrained on her visage. Tilting his head, he boldly stepped closer to Satsuki, studying her lips then drew his gaze back to her eyes. "Don't be jealous. You're more than welcome to join. Maybe I can help you find the right dick too."

Nauseated with disgust, Satsuki inched closer to him, grabbing his collar and proceeding to ash out the remains of her cigarette onto the designer jacket. 

"Fuck you...She deserves better. Quite frankly, a man like you, that's a luxury you will never be able to afford."

Leaving behind the stunned man, she made her way to the bar feeling the night go from bad to worst. Not only had she been interrogated about personal matters of her life but verbally and sexually harassed as well.

"Gimme a highball, and light on the ginger ale," Satsuki ordered, seating herself alone at the bar. 

"Make that two, please."

Again the familiarity of a male tone rang in her ears, causing her to close her eyes wearily. Placing her face within the palm of one hand, Satsuki massaged her forehead irritably. Sliding into the unoccupied seat beside her, Daesung slid cash toward the bartender then turned to Satsuki. "

"Does everyone around here have a fetish for invading my privacy this evening?"

"What is it a crime now to check in on you?" 

"Tsk," Satsuki snorted and rolled her eyes, finding it difficult to believe his sincerity.

"What? I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Do I look okay to you?" She snapped, providing him a pained expression. Daesung swallowed gravely, watching her down the entire cocktail in mere seconds before pushing it back towards the bartender to refill. A fraction of him felt accountable for her solemn state, being that he was the primary member persuading her adventure out to tonight's gathering. Retrieving his wallet from his pocket once more to pay for her second drink, Satsuki grabbed his wrist. 

"Don't..."

"What, this is the least I can do."

"I don't need your money or you fucking pity right now, D."

"I'm not pitying you, I'm just trying to help you cheer up a bit, that's all. Can't you just try to be happy for one night?"

"Cheer up?" Satsuki shot him an incredulous desolate stare. It wasn't until the bartender arrived with her replenished beverage that their intense eye contact dissolved. Satsuki wrapped her hand around the Collins glass, her fingers beginning to tremor. "Yea...I'll cheer up... I'll just get on that right now."

"I didn't mean it that way. I just wanted you to have a good time is all. Sayaka and I are worried about you, and-" 

"I'm not your fucking burden to bear, alright!" She exclaimed, earning a frightened gasp from onlookers when she slammed her hand on the countertop. "I told you I didn't want to come out tonight, but you forced me. I get it. Okay? Believe me, I do. I know you want to help, and I appreciate it. Thank you for getting me the gig, but from the beginning of the night, you've done nothing but fuck me over."

"What? I haven't_."

"Misinforming me about the client's profession and preferred media of art just to get me there? Not cool, not helpful, Daesung. It only made me look hella unprofessional. Not saying a damn thing to your ignorant-ass, cis-gendered, straight friend, Jiyong, who I don't know if you noticed throughout this entire night made it more than apparent that he doesn't respect me, or Sayaka for that matter. Then when those goons upstairs hounded me about my sexuality, you did nothing. Youngbae and Sayaka had my back. Where the hell were you?" Satsuki challenged, earning an empty reply from him.

"I'm sorry. You're right, and I should've said something, but you know I can't risk another scandal. If I had said something to Jinu and Sean there could've been another misunderstanding. I'm not ready for people to see me in that way and to openly be_."

"What? Someone like me?"

Silence engulfed him as he was at a loss for words; although he desperately searched for the right words, none came to mind. 

"Right..." Taking his lack of response as an answer to her question Satsuki merely nodded her head. No longer able to look at him, she stood up, dug in her pockets, and threw a few bills on the bartop. Grabbing hold of her refreshment she gave him one last disapproving glance. "Just come out of the closet already, you fucking coward." With that said, Satsuki disappeared into the crowded dance floor. 

Her vision began to blur as the effects of the alcohol finally started to take effect. Satsuki pressed her back on the wall, observing the party-goers enjoying the night. She was ready to conclude her evening when something, or rather someone, in particular, caught her eye. Her orbs landed on a beautiful, long jet black-haired woman softly admiring her from the center of the dancefloor. Mirroring her sultry stare from the rim of her glass Satsuki greeted her with a charismatic smile. Watching as the woman boldly made her way over toward her, Satsuki threw her head back, finishing the last of her drink, placing it in the hands of an unconscious man collapsed in a booth. They met in the center of the dancefloor when the nameless woman grabbed hold of Satsuki's hands, placing them on her slender waist. Sliding in behind her, Satsuki bounced and swayed along with her to the rhythm of elevated music. Dancing under the brilliant color hues of the rotating spotlights, the two women moved in unison, grinding in tune with the bass. The woman turned toward her, placing her arms around Satsuki's neck, closing the gap between them. Inebriated, Satsuki ignored the pungent smell of alcohol that collected on the woman's breath as she eyed her lips. The woman stood on her tippy toes, collapsing her lips with Satsuki's. Humming into the stranger's mouth, this had been the first enjoyable experience at the club since they'd arrived. Unfortunately, it didn't last long, as Satsuki was suddenly jerked backward by a steady hand. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my woman, bruh?" Confusion took a presence on her face as her eyes shifted from the drunken woman to what she presumed to be her boyfriend. Shaking her head attempting to free herself from the drunken daze, she became distracted when her eyes connected with a recognizable face across the way. Concerned, Jiyong ceased his conversation amongst the women around him. His apprehensive eyes darted from the furious gentlemen to Satsuki.

"Answer me, you asshole. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He shoved her again, coming in contact with her chest, causing Satsuki to stumble back.

"Look, I'm sorry, but she kissed me."

"What the-?" The man's face transformed from anger to confusion when he detected femininity in Satsuki's voice, in addition to the plushness of her chest. "Listen, just stay away from her, you fucking freak." He threatened with a warning finger.

"Keep your girl on a tighter leash if you don't want her to end up in my bed then," Satsuki retorted, pushing the male away from her. Enraged, the man leaped from her. Satsuki ducked his fist twice as he swung at her, making it clear that he intended to cause bodily harm regardless of her gender. Dodging the next three of his jabs, Satsuki managed to connect a hard blow to his nose with her right hand, then again to his left jaw, pleased to hear a rippling crack. He spat out blood onto the floor. This time he landed a hardback to the left of Satsuki's face. She tasted iron in her mouth. Looking up at her attacker Satsuki braced herself for another assault, but none came. 

"I think that's enough." Satsuki was pleasantly surprised to see Youngbae holding a steady grip on the man's fist. The man sent him a hardened stare then collected himself when he felt many eyes on him. Drawing back his hand, he huffed bitterly, turning to the woman and roughly pulling her along with him before disappearing. Exhaling a breath, Youngbae turned to Satsuki to inspect the cut on her lip. 

"Here, let me help _."

"I don't need your help," she cut him off. "And I didn't ask for it either."

"I know that." His eyes were vacant, unaffected by her snippy temperament as he reached for her chin. Relieved that she only sustained minor injures, he grabbed a napkin on a nearby table and dapped at the blood. "I know you didn't ask for my help, but we rarely ask for help when we need it most. There are people all around the world that need aid, and it falls on deaf ears. Just because we don't hear it doesn't mean we shouldn't offer it."

Taking the cloth out of his hand, she held it in place by herself, withdrawing her eyes from him. 

"Come on, I'll take you home."

"I can find a taxi."

"Don't be so proud. I'm more than happy to take you." Youngbae smiled gently before grabbing hold of her hand. "Come on," he coaxed her warmly, tugging her towards the exit.

Immersed in silence during the ride home, Youngbae reached for the radio to lighten up the mood. Looking over at the young woman as she examined the empty sidewalks, he caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. How exhausted she must be, he thought. The dark circles looming below her eyes, the low energy she emanated; it looked as if she was at a loss and had completely given up. It disturbed him that he hadn't noticed it before. Removing his eyes from her to concentrate on the heavy Tokyo traffic as he bobbed and weaved throughout the condensed city. She provided him with a series of directions, and it wasn't long before they'd arrived outside of her residence. The car pulled up to a slow stop. Satsuki pulled at the handle but was stopped when his hand reached for her. 

"Satsuki." Although she was drained she paused in place to look at him. "Sorry… I know this may not be my place, and please forgive me if this is out of line, but I talked to Daesung about- well, your current circumstances." 

She lifted a skeptical brow towards him. "My circumstances?"

"Yes." He had prepared a speech but had clearly forgotten it. "Regarding your career. I know you've recently been let go by your previous company, and to be honest, you're too talented to be with such a mundane firm, and-" Youngbae's nerves were now getting the best of him. He went quiet, then dug deep in his wallet to retrieve a white and black glossy card. "H-Here."

"What's this?"

"This the agency of a friend of mine in Seoul. He runs a creative collective agency called Acquisition Talent. He's always looking for new flair to add to his marketing and advertising department. So if your interested, please give him a call."

Satsuki closed her eyes hard, furious Daesung would leak her personal life so freely. She sighed and reopened her eyes, studying the man. It was clear there was no malicious ulterior motive behind the gesture, but it hurt her pride nonetheless. "Thank you, Youngbae. But like I said before, I don't need your_."

"Please," He insisted. "I don't want to see another great artist fade out. You don't have to take the job, but just give him a call, alright?" He encouraged. Satsuki's shoulders lost their stiff, defensive right angles, and she shook her head. 

"Fine…" She nearly heard him release a sigh of relief. Reaching for the door she let herself out. "Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. Have a good evening, Satsuki." He smiled weakly as she closed the door and made her way into her apartment. It was only when she was safely inside the complex that he felt comfortable driving away.

She climbed several crooked stairs that led the way to her studio apartment. When she reached the front door, there was yet another letter in a bold red font that read, 'Notice of eviction.' Snatching the message off of the door, she shoved it into her pocket. Wrapping her fingers around a ring of keys, she aimed them toward the keyhole. The door clacked and clanked then scooted inward. Removing her garments and casually tossing them in the unorganized pile adjacent to her closet, she collapsed onto her bed. Fatigued, she sighed audibly. Startled, Satsuki jumped when a loud vibrating buzz unnerved her. Squinting her eyes, adjusting the luminous light on the screen, she read a thank you message from Youngbae.

'Thanks again for all your help Satsuki. I'll be sure to be in touch with you throughout the editing process. Also, you forgot your camera equipment in my car. Just let me know what day works best for you, and I can bring it to you. Good night!'

A minuscule smile crept upon her face. Partly from the foolishness that she'd literally forgotten her entire livelihood in Youngbae's car, and partly from feeling genuinely appreciated. Propping herself on her elbows, she looked over at her discarded pants gathered in her dirty laundry pile, biting the inside of her cheek, debating with herself. Standing up, she fetched the card he'd given her from the pocket, thumbing it in her hand. 

"It's just a phone call, right?"


End file.
